Juice Box
by Amends to the Living
Summary: "Kurt stayed there a second or two more than he would have liked. Not because he didn't like Sam, but because he knew how fast he fell." A missing scene in Grilled Cheesus. S2. One-shot.


**A/N:** A missing scene in _Grilled Cheesus_ where I thought Kurt might run into Sam. As far as I can remember, Kurt wasn't there to see Sam perform Billionaire, yet I remember a comment to Finn about his rising popularity? So this is an AU-ish tie in, written a while back after my initial heartbreak from the Quinn/Sam storyline. I don't own anything.

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><p>Walking in holding hands and taking their usual seat towards the back, Kurt tossed an impossibly casual look over his shoulder at the new power couple of McKinley High. He wouldn't admit it just yet, but it was these simple moments where he actually missed Noah Puckerman. Certainly not the sexual innuendos or even the above average song choice… just his crude, straightforward behavior.<p>

Kurt never felt confused when he was around Puck. They were clearly acquaintances at best, teetering dangerously on the fine line between enemies and an unlikely friendship. But there were no mixed signals, or lies about hair treatment. No, not like there had been with Sam Evans.

It was much more than that though. It was a brief former encounter that only one party remembered and it made Kurt's heart clench so tightly that he was forced to look away. He knew better than to show any weakness.

See, the last time he tried to wear his heart on his sleeve, it was unrequited and unwanted. He glanced at Finn very briefly, who was whispering sweet nothings into Rachel's ear, and he wondered how long it would take for them to—oh, _there_ she goes. Rachel Berry pulling away to grab a hold of the metaphorical microphone and talk until his ears start to bleed.

Of course, Finn was an exception, and Kurt assumed that they lasted as long as they did because he would just block her out. It was easier than cutting her off to ask a question that she might deem as ridiculous.

As soon as Finn glanced pleadingly for help in his direction, Kurt lowered his gaze and pretended not to notice.

He pretended that he didn't care that everyone else was able to express their love towards one another, whoever that happened to be that week. He pretended that he wasn't the only openly out male at the school, who was hounded by his peers as soon as he tried to show any interest in someone.

He pretended that Finn wasn't being a jerk just to be one, and that deep down, he was protecting _him_ (his almost brother) more than he was protecting Sam…

_Sam._

Kurt's crystal bright blue eyes gradually drifted back over to the blonde that seemed to be speaking in another language altogether. The shaggy treated hair, the discreet dimples on his cheeks when he smiled, and even the well-defined Adam's apple had some sort of forbidden mystery to it.

He was jolted out of his haze when he was handed the sheet music for this week, his lips parting to sigh as he stared down at the lines. After staring right through the white paper, the notes all seemed to blur together. Two lines suddenly merged and became one.

Kurt felt very light and like he was going through an out of body experience, zoning out of the Glee club after raising his hand subconsciously to smooth his perfect hair to the side. All the noises around him became muffled as his baby blues glossed over, both in déjà vu and recognition. He remembered the day at the hospital with his father and walking into the wrong hospital room.

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><p>At some unidentified point that day, pacing had become Kurt's prominent past time. He had been warned about ruining his Jimmy Choos, but he had a strong suspicion that it was more about the floor than his shoes. He was standing by the front desk, waiting patiently for one of the nurses to direct him to his father's room. Becoming impatient after about two and a half minutes, he turned on his heel and strutted down the corridor.<p>

"Sir! Hey sir, you can't go in there!"

Kurt turned a blind ear to the receptionist, not giving her a second glance as he pushed through the double doors and nearly collided with one of the nurses. The only level of recognition that he received was a low grunt, and before he could mumble something about "Neanderthals," he stopped right in front of one of the doors.

The overall repugnant smell of the hospital made him scrunch up his nose in distaste, though it didn't really do him any justice when it was in contrast with the tear stains on his cheeks. Believing it to be fate or just a really good sense of direction (perhaps a perk of being a part of _New Directions_), he cautiously pushed open the door.

The brown-haired fashionista was nowhere prepared for what he saw. Instead of seeing the slumbering form of his father, there was an attractive blonde male sipping on a juice box. He didn't look like he was in much pain; at least, not until he shifted a bit in his spot and reached over his chest to gingerly touch his shoulder.

Kurt wanted to say that he knew the boy, since he looked around his age and probably attended McKinley, but he didn't. He felt like he should, however. Debating between saying a curt hello before departing, the cute stranger beat him to it.

"Do you work here?" came the deeper voice, pulling those full, beautiful lips away from the straw and letting his eyes transfix on Kurt, who nearly blushed under his gaze.

Maybe it would have been an odd question, if he weren't so clean and meticulous. So Kurt took the chance, offering him a lopsided smile and a shake of his head. "No," he answered simply, reaching up to wipe away the remnants of his tears away from his porcelean face. "I thought my father was in here."

"Oh," the blonde fumbled in an almost disappointed manner, before shaking his hair out of his eyes and looking off to the side. "Is he alright?"

Kurt sucked in a deep breath, before lightly biting down on his lower lip. He wasn't sure how much of himself he wanted to give away to this stranger, but something told him to trust him. "I don't know," he bit back a whimper, before breathing in deeply and regaining his composure. "I'm sorry for just—"

"No!" the blonde interjected a little too quickly, before extending his hand for a shake. "I'm Sam… Sam I am. It's kind of boring in here, so you're welcome to… I don't know. Whatever."

"Okay," Kurt nodded, visibly gulping before he moved forward to shake the patient's hand. It was firm, but as soon as skin met skin, the soprano could have sworn that he felt a spark. It was silly, of course, and he knew that it was wrong of him to assume anything. But if Sam's hair was anything to go by…

"You should go check on your dad. I'll be here for a while yet," Sam reassured Kurt, although he didn't pull his hand away.

When he followed Kurt's baby blues down to where their hands met, a sheepish look crossed his adonis-like features. "Sorry," he mumbled as he pulled it away quickly, reaching up to scratch the back of his head before yawning. The pain meds were finally starting to sink in and things were getting a little hazy.

Kurt retracted his hand just as quickly, almost as if he had placed it on hot coal, before nodding towards the other boy. He wanted to say something, anything to make sure that this was real. He could tell that he was under the effects of the drugs that the doctors had pumped into him and Kurt easily could have taken advantage of that, asking all sorts of questions that they'd both regret later. But he didn't.

Instead, he backed away from Sam, whose eyelids had begun to droop over those pretty eyes and shielded them from his view. Kurt visibly mourned the small loss with a furrow of his brows and lines forming on the bridge of his nose, but it disappeared as soon as Sam's stomach started to move up and down in a gentle rhythm.

It was strange, being alone in the same room with a boy. After Finn made such a big deal about rooming with him, this sort of thing was something that Kurt could only dream about. Even if it was only for a few moments, the fact that Sam allowed him into his space and breathed the same air that he was breathing without a hint of disgust was…

Well, to put it simply, heart-warming.

Kurt stayed there a second or two more than he would have liked. Not because he didn't like Sam, but because he knew how fast he fell. And although everyone else had the option of looking for someone else to pick them back up onto their feet, Kurt was alone. There was only so much that friends could do to fill the void, and Gaga bless them for trying, but it wasn't enough.

Sometimes, even love wasn't enough and no matter how many times he put himself out there, it always had the same end result.

So as Kurt turned away from the stranger, he wondered if their paths would ever cross again. He fantasized that his injury was due to something that only McKinley High would cause (which he was right about, he just didn't know it yet) and that sooner or later, it would all come to light.

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><p>"Kurt?"<p>

"Yo, Hummel?"

"Homeboy?"

A slew of voices finally pulled him out of his daydream, making him blink in surprise when he looked up to see the club forming a circle around him; all of them except for one. Kurt put his hands up to indicate that he wanted his personal space back, ignoring the worried exchange of looks as they went back to their seats.

"Were you thinking about Brad Pitt again? Boy, I told you we shouldn't have seen Troy on a Sunday night," Mercedes whispered to him, causing a slightly impish smirk to cross Kurt's lips for the first time that afternoon.

"I'm fine, Mercedes."

It was the biggest lie he had ever told, but his eyes were on a certain blonde when he said it…

And if anyone knew anything about lying, it was Sam Evans.


End file.
